Winter Wanderer

100_6196m

White mountains,

white sky,

a white lane into the distance.

A bird of prey plummets towards the ground,

a mouse scurries into its hole with a shriek.

When dusk begins to fall, I head back home,

picking more firewood as I go along.

Smoke curls from every house in the village,

my shoes are soggy, my coat threadbare.

As I enter this old hut,

 silence and the clock on the wall stand still.

A single teacup on the table,

a kettle on the stove.

How could I be not content!

The sky is full of stars,

the moon returns each night.

This entry was posted in Random Scribbles and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Winter Wanderer

  1. mata says:

    ..z lahkoto predstavljivo in lepo zapisano

  2. Sara says:

    I love. Your writing creates great imagery and makes me feel good and relate to my own experiences. Truly great.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s